


How Many Dragon(lord)s Does it Take to Stop a Conclave?

by VioletLink7



Series: The Tales of a Bookwyrm [2]
Category: Merlin (TV), The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:25:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6359227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletLink7/pseuds/VioletLink7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there were far too many fire-breathing, magic-wielding, blood-drowning creatures in this Annex, if you asked Cassandra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Many Dragon(lord)s Does it Take to Stop a Conclave?

**Author's Note:**

> A/N includes spoilers and is therefore at the end this time.

It had been a several weeks since Cassandra had touched a dying Excalibur, remembered her past life as Merlin, and repaired her severed soul. Despite all the work she’d done with the other Librarians, it frustrated her to no end that she still hadn’t found a way to access her magic. She knew that it was repairing the ley lines across the Earth, and she figured it would come back on its own, but it hadn’t stopped her from trying. Even the most basic of magic, the kind she could do before she had learned to talk back in Ealdor, was unsuccessful now. 

As if to add to her frustrations and worry, she had gotten some information from Santa during their adventure with him. Some very interesting information that she had no idea how to act on. He’d known not only the history of Cassandra Cillian, but of Merlin Ambrosius as well. She’d asked him if he knew why she was reborn, but he could not answer. 

She wasn’t sure if he was refusing to tell her, or if he simply didn’t know, but he was adamant. However, he did tell her that Merlin was not the only one reborn. There were others, three of them, though he wouldn't tell her anything. Not who had been reborn, not who their reincarnations were, no information other than she was not alone. 

It was a comfort, in a way, to know she wasn't just a relic of times long past, alone in her knowledge. Santa had said she would learn more in time. 

She did wonder about her fellow Librarians and their Guardian—there were the right number of people, after all—but they had shown no indication whatsoever of being more than they seemed. Without her magic, she couldn’t even try to jumpstart the memories that might not be there. For now, she simply had to observe. She hated observing. 

Merlin had always felt the need to act (and Cassandra was a rather ambitious individual before her diagnosis derailed her life), he was never content to stand by and watch. Something Gaius and Kilgarrah both had warned him about numerous times. Cassandra wondered what had happened to Kilgarrah. He must have been hiding somewhere away from civilization, he was quite large and frightening, but she wondered again if she should try to call him. 

Cassandra was almost afraid to find out whether she could still speak the dragon tongue. She didn’t want that to be taken from her too. Bad enough that her magic, her very essence, was out of her reach, she couldn’t bear to lose the Mark of the Dragon too. It was her last connection to the father she had barely known, yet loved anyway, and the only way she might find someone from her past to speak to. Camelot was dead and gone, but Kilgarrah and Aithusa, her kin, might not be. 

The latest crisis facing the Library did nothing to stop her fears, in fact, it made it all worse. Flynn had stumbled in their back door claiming the dragons were awakening. They were causing terrible earthquakes all over, and they needed to do something about it. Cassandra wasn’t sure if she would be able to help, but she needed to talk to Flynn alone. 

“Cassandra, I want you to focus on the heat signals of the Western dragons,” he said in a hurry. “Jenkins, I’m going to need my—” the man in question handed him a white suit “—thank you.” 

“Actually,” Cassandra stopped him, “Can you have Ezekiel do that? I need to talk to you.” Flynn stared at her, as if slightly offended she had interrupted him and denied his order, but told Jenkins to get Ezekiel on the heat signals and motioned her into the other room. Flynn ducked behind a cabinet to change into his suit while they talked. 

“I hope this is important, I’m not even remotely prepared,” Flynn confessed. 

“Prepared for what?” Cassandra asked, momentarily forgetting why she had asked to talk to him. He was acting more scatterbrained than usual, and she was finding herself caught up in it. 

“Not for what, for whom,” he said. “Mr. Drake! The Eastern Dragons’ representative is going to be here any minute.” 

“A dragon is coming _here?”_ she asked. “No, wait. No, this is important. I need to tell you something.” She paused as he came out from behind the cabinet, fully dressed. He looked at her expectantly. “Do you know what a Dragonlord is?” 

“A myth,” Flynn stated matter-of-factly. “They were said to have control over the dragons, but they weren’t real.” 

“They were definitely real; I’m the last one,” Cassandra said. “At least, I think I am. I haven’t tried to speak in the dragon tongue since I recovered my memories, but back in Camelot I could order the dragons. Of course, just ordering them around is an abuse of my gift and I’m not even sure it would work on these dragons. They’re a different breed than the ones in Camelot all those years ago, I suspect they're closer to wyverns. Uther killed all but two of the dragons, who, by the way, might be still alive, and I could try to call them. Though, Dragonlord magic was passed from father to son and obviously I’m not a son any longer but there might be an exception because of—” 

“Cassandra. Cassandra!” Flynn said, breaking her out of her rambling. “You’re starting to sound like me. So, what I gather from all of that, is that you may or may not be able to speak the dragons’ language and you also may or may not have two dragon friends you could call?” Cassandra nodded. She got a feeling in the pit of her stomach then, a sort of roiling of magic inside her. It was something she hadn’t felt in fifteen-hundred years. 

“Flynn, I sense a dragon,” she said, her eyes darting in the direction of the Annex’s front door. “He doesn’t feel anything like Kilgarrah, but that is undeniably a dragon outside.” Flynn started running then, Cassandra following after him. She was just a bit faster, making it to the door before Flynn could. Dragons were her territory, no matter how many years it had been since she had faced one, they were her kin. 

Cassandra wrenched the door open to find an Asian man dressed in a grey suit. He looked stern, cruel, and carried himself with an arrogance that would have made Uther Pendragon proud. Well, except the part where this man was a creature of magic in disguise. She wondered briefly when dragons had gained the ability to appear human, and if Kilgarrah and Aithusa could do the same. 

“Who here speaks for the Library?” the man asked. 

“I do,” Cassandra said, resolutely. She could practically feel Flynn’s annoyance behind her, but technically she was the elder here. Though admittedly much less experienced in being a Librarian, she knew dragons. She may not have had the formal education of a true Dragonlord, but she had found several books on the matter within the Library. Flynn wouldn’t have known about them, they had been there for around a thousand years, but she thought he might like to see them. Myth, indeed. 

“She doesn’t speak for the Library, I do!” Flynn practically yelled. 

“Who speaks first, speaks for the Library,” Drake countered. Cassandra put a hand on Flynn’s arm to silence him. She gave him a look that clearly said “I know what I’m doing.” He relented, but still looked annoyed at her. Drake, for his part, completely ignored this and strolled right into the Annex. “Let the Intercession of Dragons commence.” 

His words held power, Cassandra could feel it in her very bones. Wind whipped papers about the room as he spoke. Admittedly, Cassandra probably should have found out what an Intercession was before opening the door, but not knowing what she was doing had generally worked for her before so why stop now? 

“I represent the Feilong,” Drake said, his tone commanding. Cassandra was not intimidated by the commands of a dragon, however. “Western pigs have stolen the Mystic Pearl of the Feilong. The Arbiter of the Library is now on record.” The dragon walked closer to Cassandra. “If the pearl is not returned by sunset tomorrow, I cannot withhold the fury of the Feilong.” 

“That’s why we’re going to get that pearl back into your hands ASAP,” Flynn placated. “Right, Colonel Baird?” 

“Right…Mr.…Carson,” Eve replied, seemingly uncomfortable with the formal term. 

“Psst!” Jenkins called behind them, he made a gesture that Flynn seemed to understand, though Cassandra did not. 

“Yes! Arbiter, have you selected your council yet for the Intercession?” Flynn asked, pointing to Jenkins. 

“My council?” Cassandra asked. She didn’t want anyone stopping her in her duties as a Dragonlord (which she was still trying to keep secret), but Jenkins could definitely fill the gaps in her knowledge of Intercessions. “Right, Jenkins.” 

“Yes!” Jenkins said, stepping forward. “I gladly accept the honor of Intercession Consiglieri for the Arbiter of the Library.” The man donned an uncharacteristically business-like attitude as he spoke to the dragon. 

“Arbiter, we will begin the list of grievances in,” Drake pulled out his pocket watch, “eight minutes.” He then walked to the other side of the room, leaving them alone for the time being. 

“Ah, well, what say the Arbiter and the Consiglieri stay here with Mr. Drake, while the rest of us,” Flynn trailed off, pointing to the door. He whispered one last thing to Cassandra before he, the boys, and Baird fled the room. 

“If you don’t mind,” Cassandra said, “I’d like to go to the ladies’ room before we start the list of grievances.” She bowed slightly to Drake, old servant’s habits had been making themselves known in the past several weeks, before quickly making her way into the hall. Instead of going to the bathroom, however, she went outside. It was time she called in an old favor. 

 _“O drakon,”_ Cassandra shouted at the sky, relief flooding through her when it worked. _“e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!”_ She hoped Kilgarrah wasn’t too far away, she only had eight minutes after all. Cassandra was surprised when, five minutes later, a sleek, black car drove up to the Annex. Out of it came a well-dressed man of British decent with ashy blonde hair, and a girl about Cassandra’s age with hair such a bright platinum blonde it was almost white. The man stopped to thank their driver, and the car drove off. 

“Well hello, young warlock,” the man said in a very familiar voice, “or should I say witch?” 

“K-Kilgarrah?” Cassandra asked, tears threatening to fall. The man nodded. The former warlock turned to the girl standing beside him, “Aithusa?” She nodded too. 

“Long time no see, my Dragonlord,” the girl said. Her eyes appeared to be wet as well. The two had a special bond because Merlin had hatched her, one that could not be broken despite the cruelties of Morgana over one thousand years ago. The girl chuckled, “Dragonlady, I suppose.” Cassandra ran forward to hug her, holding tightly to the dragon she had thought lost. 

She rounded on Kilgarrah next, hugging him around the middle, despite knowing he would protest. The dragon pulled her off of him. 

“How did you get here so quickly?” Cassandra asked. 

“We felt your return when your magic entered the ley lines,” Kilgarrah explained, “but because you yourself do not possess any magic at the moment, we could not pinpoint your location closely. We have been in the area waiting for your call for weeks.” 

“If I’d known, I would have called you sooner! I wasn’t sure if you were alive—” Kilgarrah snorted indignantly “—or if I could still speak the dragon tongue.” 

“That, young witch, is a gift you can never lose,” Kilgarrah smiled fondly at her. “Now, I assume you did not call us for a social visit, considering all the ruckus those _other_ dragons have been making. Noisy half-breeds." Cassandra laughed. Trust Kilgarrah to feel superior even over other dragons. 

“There’s one inside right now, preparing to air his list of grievances to the Arbiter of the Library—me—and I thought it would be nice if I had some dragons on my side too,” Cassandra explained. “Although, now that I think about it, I don’t know how I’m going to explain you to Jenkins…” 

“Perhaps the truth?” Kilgarrah suggested, eyebrow raised. 

“The truth is very complicated,” Cassandra countered. She didn’t know what else she could do, though, and time was running out. There was no time for plans. 

"Well, we Ancient Dragons cannot let the name of our noble breed be soiled by the Eastern and Western half-breeds. We'll help you when you need it," Kilgarrah said. The word "need" did not escape her notice. 

“Excuse me, Arbiter, but I rather think you should come back inside now,” Jenkins yelled, poking his head through the Annex door. He paused. “Who are these two?” Before Cassandra could explain, there was a rumbling below them. Drake was getting impatient. 

“Kilgarrah, Aithusa,” she introduced, pointing. “This is Jenkins. I’ll explain later, but it sounds as though Mr. Drake would like to get on with the Intercession.” She pushed them all inside, even a thoroughly confused Jenkins, and entered the Annex’s main room. “Sorry about that, Mr. Drake. Please, begin the list of grievances.” As the dragon unrolled the scroll he had, she decided she was going to regret that request. 

-o- 

“Two hundred and three: over flight privileges for the North American territories,” Drake drawled on. Cassandra was trying to look as intent as possible, but she could feel her eyes drooping. Even Arthur’s speeches had never been this long and boring. “Arbiter, what is your response to two hundred and three?” 

“I will have to confer with my council on that one,” Cassandra stalled. The doorbell rang. It surprised her the Annex even had a doorbell, but there it was. She wondered who it could be, hoping it wasn’t one of the Western Dragons. She had enough fire breathing magical creatures in here right now. For their part, Kilgarrah and Aithusa were simply observing her. 

She’d asked them telepathically if they were just going to sit around all day, but Kilgarrah had responded that she didn’t need their help. Jenkins’ advice had been more than enough to deal with the grievances so far. Cassandra got up to answer the door. She opened the door to find a dark-skinned man who brushed right past her. 

“I am Dobra of the City of Bronze,” the man said, handing her a card shaped like a lamp, “representative of the Jinn. I am here for the Conclave.” 

“Conclave?” Jenkins nearly shouted. “Someone called a Conclave?” 

“Was I deceived? If so I will drown the world in blood!” Dobra growled, stalking towards Jenkins. 

“No, no blood drowning,” Jenkins relented. He motioned Dobra inside. A woman showed up then, handing Cassandra a black card. 

“This is Lady Sililandria of the Fae Legions,” she read. Sililandria looked surprised that Cassandra could pronounce it. She probably wasn’t used to outsiders recognizing Fae names, but she walked inside, and another man followed behind her. The kilted man handed Cassandra another card. 

“This is Cuchlann of the Iron Kingdom,” she read again. The man walked in, followed again by another woman and another card. Jenkins pushed her out of the room before she had a chance to read it. 

“Someone must have called a quorum,” Jenkins said, when they were out in the hall. 

“What’s a Conclave?” Cassandra asked. She might be a little over her head now. Dragons were one thing, but Fae? Jinn? She had no idea how to deal with all of these supernaturals. Maybe she should have let Flynn be the Arbiter after all, but she was sure he had some sort of plan to resolve all of this. 

“It’s a UN,” Jenkins explained, “for all of the supernatural factions where they can peaceably resolve their differences, and over which the Arbiter of the Library presides.” 

“That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing, but considering how angry you are, there must be more to it than that,” Cassandra observed. Jenkins never got angry like this. Annoyed? Sure. Sarcastic? Every moment, but angry? This was new. 

“Conclaves don’t just happen on their own, they have to be called. I doubt that whoever called this one has our best interests at heart,” Jenkins snapped. 

“Then we will just have to keep an eye out for suspicious behavior,” Cassandra said. She made to return to the main room, but stopped short. “Does ‘all of the supernatural factions’ include the Ancient Dragons?” She'd heard Kilgarrah call his breed of dragons that. Hopefully it was the proper name. 

“Well, yes, but they haven’t participated in a Conclave since before the time of Camelot,” Jenkins responded. “They were wiped out along with the Dragonlords.” Cassandra shook her head, though she wondered why Jenkins knew the Dragonlords were real when Flynn hadn’t. 

“No, all but two of them were. The two that happen to be sitting over there,” Cassandra said, pointing to the spot where Kilgarrah and Aithusa were still observing. “Kilgarrah could join the Conclave, right? That would give us at least one member on our side.” Cassandra had not only said this out loud, but had sent the dragon a similar telepathic message. 

 _Indeed, young witch,_ he replied. _I can join, and I will do as you wish._  

 _You’ve gotten rather more cooperative over the years, Kilgarrah,_ she joked. 

 _It is simply you who has gotten more reasonable,_ came the response. Did he just compliment— 

 _Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!_ Cassandra asked indignantly. Kilgarrah merely laughed. Jenkins had been staring at her this entire time, no doubt puzzling over Cassandra’s apparent connection to dragons. The people inside would get impatient soon, however, and she promised to explain it to him later. 

When she walked back into the room, the assembled members of the Conclave turned all their eyes to her, and Kilgarrah stood from where he had been sitting since he’d arrived. The dragon stood up as straight as one could and walked over, perhaps subconsciously trying to intimidate the other members. Or conciously, knowing Kilgarrah. 

“We have one more joining us today; Kilgarrah of the Ancient Dragons,” Cassandra announced. Kilgarrah sat down, pointedly ignoring the supernaturals’ stares. 

“Most of us had thought the Ancient Dragons to be extinct, I am glad to see we were wrong,” Lady Sililandria dipped her head to Kilgarrah. 

“Yes, what brings you to the Conclave after so many centuries?” asked Drake. He clearly did not like the presence of another dragon. Though, Cassandra had to wonder how he had not noticed what Kilgarrah and Aithusa were earlier. They had been there throughout Drake’s Intercession, albeit only as observers. Perhaps it had something to do with being wyvern/qilin half-breeds (a suspicion Kilgarrah had confirmed), they may not be able to sense the magic of an Ancient Dragon. She would definitely have to research the qilin, from which the Eastern Dragons descended, later. 

“Destiny moves in ways I would not expect a modern dragon to understand,” Kilgarrah replied, “I am here as a…a favor, you might say.” 

“Shall we begin the Conclave?” Cassandra butted in. She did _not_ want to tip her hand at being a Dragonlord if she could help it. They might not respect Kilgarrah’s vote as his own if they knew she could order him to answer a certain way—even if she wouldn’t. Arbiter or not, trust was a delicate thing in such political matters. Really, this was more Arthur’s thing. 

Cassandra sat down as Jenkins handed her some notes of business to be attended to. “Now, motion to allow Lupin membership for both the Guild of Fictional Entities and the World Crime League on a provisional basis. Do I hear a second? 

“Second,” said Dobra. 

“Motion is seconded,” Cassandra announced, “all those in favor?” A chorus of “Aye”s rang throughout the room. “Motion passes.” 

“A request,” said a new voice from the door way, “to be recognized.” All eyes in the room turned to the newcomer. 

“Dulaque,” Cassandra spoke. She looked to Jenkins, who was glaring fiercely at the man before them.  There just had to be some history there, Cassandra thought. Jenkins was way too angry to not know this man outside of their recent dealings with him. “Jenkins? Ideas?” The man ignored her and left the room without a word. 

“Tick. Tick. Tick,” Dulaque said, stepping closer with each word, “Cassandra Cillian. Does the arbiter recognize me?” 

“Never seen you before,” Cassandra lied. She could not let this man into the Conclave, no matter what. He was evil, right down to his core, and manipulative enough to convince her to betray the Library. Never again, she’d promised herself. 

“The Fae Legions vouch safe the son of Ector and accept his bonafides,” Lady Sililandria chimed. Cassandra wanted to out herself right then and there—surely the word of Emrys held more weight than the Fae’s representative. Especially in regards to this man. Son of Ector, indeed. 

Kilgarrah, who’d been sitting to her left this whole time, placed a hand on her shoulder. _He cannot be who she says, can he? There’s no way he could have survived so many centuries—he was just a knight!_ Cassandra telepathically said to the dragon. 

 _I can sense your magic within him, young witch. It is faint but there, nonetheless,_ Kilgarrah responded. _And now that I have noticed it, your council also holds some of your magic within him. Think, Merlin, did you cast any spells on the knights before you died?_ Cassandra fought hard to remember that day, so many centuries ago. 

“My esteemed colleagues, entities,” Dulaque continued, “these have been trying times and yet, how long has it been since we met in Conclave? Long enough for once small problems to fester and why?” 

 _I remember!_ Cassandra practically shouted over the telepathic link. _Sir Kay and Sir Galahad were on the front lines at Camlann. I’d found Arthur, I had to leave, but I wanted them to be safe…_  

“The Librarian _refused_ to deal with it. I submit that the Library has out-lived its usefulness. In fact, if rumor is to be believed, the current Librarian has lost the Library itself.” 

 _It seems your magic granted that wish,_ Kilgarrah concluded. Indeed, one careless spell had given those knights some form of immortality…but if Dulaque was the son of Ector—Sir Kay—then that meant Galahad was… 

Cassandra called for a recess immediately, to confer with her council, she claimed. She ran as fast as she could outside to find Jenkins putting some things in his car, clearly about to leave. 

“You know, through all of your sarcasm and insults, you hand us just enough hints to get things done—you want to help us. I know you do,” Cassandra yelled, walking towards Jenkins. “But yet you act so superior, complaining about how we’re invading _your_ Annex. I could never figure out the real you, until now. Sir Galahad.” 

“What—” 

“That’s why you are the way you are, isn’t it? You’re jaded from centuries of living beyond your time. Centuries you were never meant to endure,” Cassandra finished. She felt guilty, in a way, because this was her fault. Even if she had never meant to cast such a strong protection spell. She hadn’t even known she _could_ do this. 

“How do you know that?” Jenkins demanded. Cassandra took a deep breath, preparing herself for his disbelief. 

“Because I know you, Galahad. We were, well maybe not friends, but I knew you and Sir Kay,” Cassandra said, gesturing towards the Annex and Dulaque. “Do you remember that awful day, centuries ago at Camlann?” 

“If this is some sort of ruse to get me to come back, I swear—” Jenkins began. Cassandra put a hand over his mouth; this would be easier if he stopped talking. 

“Do you remember the sorcerer who rained lightning down on the Saxons?” she asked. She removed her hand this time, actually expecting an answer to her query. 

“Merlin died that day,” Jenkins spat, “he was stabbed through the heart with his king’s sword. I helped bury them both.” Cassandra hugged him, then. She hadn’t know that, or how it had made Galahad feel. She may not have known him well, but there was a mutual respect between them.  

“Only part of Merlin died, Galahad,” Cassandra said, pulling back from Jenkins. She told him all that had happened to Merlin—to her. Everything from her torn soul, to Excalibur, to her recent lack of magic and her call to Kilgarrah and Aithusa. 

“I never knew Merlin was a Dragonlord,” Jenkins mused. “You saved our lives, you know. Though Morgana lived, she was insane. She reveled in her victory over you and Arthur, long enough for us to return to Camelot and evacuate the whole town before she came and destroyed it.” 

“Morgana destroyed Camelot?” Cassandra cried. 

“Yes, in her anger she destroyed everything and disappeared. Camelot’s lands were taken by Nemeth and the people prospered under Mithian’s rule. She made Guinevere a lady and advisor in her court," Jenkins explained. Cassandra hadn’t expected that to be the fate of Camelot after her death. The piece of her soul within Excalibur took decades to stabilize itself enough for her to be conscious, and by that time Excalibur had long since been removed from Camelot. Whether stolen or given away, she had no idea. 

 _Young witch, I fear this man will convince the whole Conclave of your incompetence if you do not return this moment,_ Kilgarrah interrupted. She had nearly forgotten Kay and the Conclave! 

“We’ll have to talk more later; Kilgarrah says we need to get back to the Conclave now,” Cassandra told Jenkins. 

“Exactly when and how did he say that?” Jenkins asked. 

“Oh, uh, dragons and their Lords can communicate telepathically,” Cassandra explained. “That information is in some of the Library’s books…you know, I had this idea that you’d read everything in there.” 

“Yes, well, it is a rather _large_ library,” Jenkins said.  

-o- 

"Is the Arbiter ready to continue?" Kilgarrah asked. Cassandra strode into the room and up to her place at the table, Jenkins trailing behind. 

"The recess is over," she proclaimed. She didn't sit. She stared down Sir Kay. How had he become like this? He had been such a noble knight.  

Galahad, she understood; he was old, he was hurt, he just wanted to be left alone to study. Galahad had always enjoyed studying, it was why he stood out among the knights to Merlin. They hadn't been friends, but they had spent more than one night in the library with books and the comfort of another's presence. 

"Excellent. We were discussing the merits of removing the Librarians as arbiters of the Conclave, and subsequently closing the Library," Kilgarrah informed. "I do not think we should yet call for a vote, as the Conclave has been in recess." 

"The Librarians cannot keep track of their own Library, how can we put our trust in their hands?" Dulaque argued. Kay had stood out to Merlin based on his sheer loyalty and desire to be the best knight he could be. The man had loved Camelot and all of its people, how could he have twisted so much? 

"What other hands did you have in mind?" asked Drake. He looked like he was very much interested in removing the Library. 

"The Librarians have lost the Library, yes," interrupted Kilgarrah, "but that only gives us more reason to need them. Without the Library, and due to the recent reparation of the ley lines, magic is running rampant in our world. There was a time before the Library, and I remember it well. It was a world of wild magic, of chaos. 

"The world is in its greatest time of need in centuries, a time of magic, and a time of Destiny. There are ancient prophecies at work here, removing the Librarians from their station would be a mistake. They are Destiny's solution to the chaos." 

"What reason do we have to believe this?" asked Dobra. Cassandra doubted the Jinn knew of or cared much for the druidic prophecies. They weren't from England, the history and myth of Camelot was doubtless of little interest to them. Until now, when those prophecies would directly affect them and the rest of the world. She silently prayed they would heed Kilgarrah's warning. 

"The Librarians do not yet know it, but they are a vital part of the return of the Once and Future King," Kilgarrah said. "You may choose to believe me or not, but I knew the King, I knew his protector, Emrys, I know the prophecies. This is the time spoken of." 

Cassandra could scarcely breathe. Arthur. Arthur was returning. She now knew the previous identity of one of the three Santa spoke of. But how? Where? And who were the other two? 

Kilgarrah mentally prodded her. _Young Witch, I believe this is your cue to speak._ Cassandra shook her head. Focus. 

"Unrestrained magic can be dangerous,” Cassandra began. “All it takes is one person with access. Just one person, and the whole world could be destroyed. Unless," Cassandra straightened, holding her head high with all the dignity of royalty, "we have a Library. Someone needs to keep the world in balance. Now, all in favor of replacing the Library?" Silence. "All opposed?" 

The room rang with the word "Nay!" from nearly every attendee. 

"Sounds pretty unanimous to me." 

"No!" Yelled Drake. "We do not agree. Our business is not done, you have not returned the stolen pearl of the Feilong. You have not fulfilled your duties as Arbiter, and for that the Feilong will wreak—" The back door of the Annex opened, revealing Flynn and the rest of the Library team. Ezekiel Jones stepped forward, holding up a small, golden apple.  

"Ladies, gents, the minute I heard the story of the stolen pearl, my very good thief brain began thinking. Who had access? Who do the Eastern Dragons trust? Any idea who that could be, Mr. Drake?" Drake bowed, a small smile on his face, and retreated. Well, that was...anti-climactic. She wondered what the others had gone through to acquire that information, because it just seemed too easy from her perspective. 

"Right, the Conclave is now finished," Cassandra declared. The various supernaturals departed, and Kilgarrah and Aithusa left as well, though they assured her they would keep in touch. They lived in Portland now, anyway. 

"Well, where have you all been?" Cassandra asked her friends. 

"Chasing evil Stone, Flynn, and Baird," Ezekiel answered. That...made no sense. What the hell went on outside the Annex? 

"You know what? Not even going to ask." Cassandra relented. "We just stopped Dulaque from legally shutting down the Library and I'm exhausted. Would you like to get some dinner, Jenkins?" The man in question raised his eyebrows, but nodded. They had a lot to talk about. 

"Since when are those two so close?" asked Flynn. The rest of the group just shrugged. What the hell happened in the Annex?

**Author's Note:**

> I know I messed with canon here. I hope you all like, or at least tolerate, what I've done. I just couldn't bring myself to (spoilers for the last episode of The Librarians!) turn Lancelot into Dulaque...or figure out a logical way to bring him back from the dead. Again. Is Sir Kay a good choice? I tried to pick someone more well-known who has a father listed on Wikipedia, haha. I probably should have changed his alias, but I didn't want to confuse you guys too much, since his character and motivations are the same. He's just...not Lancelot. (end spoilers) And my thanks, again, to my beta, Lost_Lovegood, who tolerates my adventures into fandoms she doesn't know, though now she at least is into The Librarians! Special thanks for telling me about the existence of qilin.
> 
> -Vi
> 
> That's me, the Information Fairy! Knowledgeable about most things from mythology to comic cartoon characters to strange animals! Possible slogan for my role as Information Fairy, '"Anything I can't tell you right away, I can find for you pretty quick because I'm normally not doing anything productive." As a slogan it's a little mouthy, but very honest about how much time I spend learning new useless information online. Why no one has asked me to be on their trivia night team eludes me, but might have something to do with my less-than-hopping social life. I'm off track. Happy to edit, even happier to actually know what's happening in the story, happiest to share my semi-useless knowledge. The end.  
> ~L
> 
> (I would 100% kidnap L to do trivia with me. Last time I did trivia I think the only question I knew was about Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice. I research random things too, but it's mostly about like Arthurian Legend and Victorian slang, let's be real here. -Vi)
> 
> And now, Alternate Titles by L.
> 
> In Which Merlin Finds Out Saving People Can Make Them Rude Immortals  
> Merlin is More Reasonable  
> Even as a Girl Merlin Makes a Mess  
> New Merlin Finds Out Her Old Best Friend is Totally Not as Dead as She Thought He Was  
> Eastern Dragons are Huge Dicks and Not to Be Trusted  
> Secret Dragonlords Are Still Cool Dragonlords


End file.
